


put the wooden spoons in upside down

by orphan_account



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Domestic Fluff, Drabble, M/M, Mild Blood, Non-Linear Narrative, au where they're still idiots, basically nothing's changed they just drink blood and wear black capes, vampire!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-28 17:32:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5099324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>‘kageyama,’ says hinata, distantly, disjointedly, and kageyama knows he’s almost gone, ‘will you still toss to me when we wake up?’</p>
<p>‘obviously, dumbass,’ kageyama says, softly because his voice is almost gone, and hinata’s eyes fall shut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	put the wooden spoons in upside down

**Author's Note:**

> in spirit of halloween, here is the volleydork duo as very clichéd vampires
> 
> inspired by [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Smv36iLIXC8)
> 
> this was supposed to be short n sweet after hq s2e5 broke my heart but it kind of spiralled out of control

‘oi. hinata. have you seen my - ’

kageyama comes home to hinata sucking noisily from a bag of blood clearly marked in sharpie, _Kageyama Tobio’s dinner, do not touch_

‘mm,’ says hinata, lifting his head at the sound, mouth dripping, coloured that dark red when the blood’s been sitting out for too long. ‘oh no,’ he freezes when he sees kageyama standing in the doorway, all dark and murderous intent, one fang popped out threateningly, ‘i’m sor - ’

the apology’s only halfway out when kageyama crosses the room and stops, a looming presence over hinata, black cape still fluttering in the air from the sudden movement. he slaps hinata’s face between his hands and pretends not to notice how soft his cheeks are.

(‘...uh, kageyama, you can let go now?’

‘ _shut up._ ’)

 

 

‘why do i have to put the wooden spoons upside down in the dishwasher. that’s so stupid, bakayama!’

‘so you don’t trip and stake yourself, dumbass!’

‘ha, i wouldn’t!’

(two hours later, after hinata trips and falls onto the dishwasher tray, kageyama gently rubs the center of his chest where the wood left a dark bruise, then tells him smugly, ‘i told you so’.

‘--oh, shut up, you only did it ‘cause iwaizumi-san told you to.’)

 

 

they hadn’t always been like this.

it all started because hinata was stupid and careless and took a wrong turn into the wrong part of the city.

and wherever hinata goes, kageyama follows.

 

 

‘hinata? oi, where did you go, dumbass!’

when kageyama turns the corner to find two dark figures towering over hinata, he doesn’t stop to think before he runs right into them, a bottle of holy water clenched tight in his fist.

 

 

hinata clutches onto his neck, his hand splayed over the area where needle-thin fangs had slid into moments before. dark blood oozes through the gaps between his fingers.

‘damnit.’ kageyama shifts in hinata’s lap, and hisses in pain when his wound comes in contact with hinata’s shirt, drenched in holy water. he brings his hands up to his neck, and they come away stained black. ‘damnit!’

hinata winces, once, and gasps like he’s been punched. ‘kageyama,’ hinata rasps into his ear. he can feel hinata changing, his hands colder by the second, his breath chilling and collecting as frost on kageyama’s cheek. ‘my shirt’s burning me.’ 

‘take it off,’ kageyama says.

‘...eh?!’

a terrible itch bursts from the back of his throat, hot and uncomfortable, like something’s clawing its way up from his stomach, and he coughs out, ‘take your shirt off.’

when hinata doesn’t move, kageyama lifts hinata’s arms up, unbuttoning and peeling his soaking shirt off, tossing it off to the side. his hands are smoking from contact with the holy water.

‘stupid,’ he mutters, ‘it’s not like we haven’t seen each other shirtless before,’ and when hinata shivers beside him, it’s easy to wrap his arms around hinata, bury his face into the crook of hinata’s neck, and hold onto him like he’s the only thing keeping him rooted in the world.

‘kageyama,’ says hinata, distantly, disjointedly, and kageyama knows he’s almost gone, ‘will you still toss to me when we wake up?’

‘obviously, dumbass,’ kageyama says, softly because his voice is almost gone, and hinata’s eyes fall closed.

the itch in kageyama’s throat grows worse, rises to a climax, and he coughs, shaking and shuddering, pain shooting through his temples, droplets of blood splatter on hinata’s shoulder, dark against the pale hollows of his collarbone, and kageyama smudges them away.

he closes his eyes and listens to his heartbeat still in time to hinata’s pulse, counting down the seconds they have left.

 

 

when kageyama wakes up, he’s aware of a stinging in his left hand. opening his eyes, then squinting them shut immediately when bright light evades his vision, he finds that hinata has left the blinds half-open again. his hand smokes, thin wisps of it coiling upwards, from contact with the sunlight.

‘hinata, idiot!’ he groans, and smothers the other boy into awakeness with his pillow. ‘do you want us to turn to dust?’

‘ah, damn,’ goes hinata, ‘i did it again, didn’t i,’ and promptly goes back to sleep.

‘stupid,’ kageyama mutters, and gets up to shut the blinds, properly this time.

he settles back under the covers, turning to press his face to that one spot on hinata’s neck that’s always colder than the rest of his body, and pretends to hear a pulse. 

 

 

‘well, you know what they say about vampires who’ve been turned together,’ goes oikawa, ‘they’re basically matched for life.’ he lazily slurps at the bloody milkshake in his hand, glancing at them sideways, languidly, through eyes the colour of his drink.

beside him, hinata sputters and disappears among the various cushions on the sofa. kageyama makes out a tinge of red along the back of hinata’s neck, and forces down a blush of his own.

‘is that what happened with you and iwaizumi-san?’ he says, mostly to cover hinata’s (their) embarrassment.

oikawa crosses his ankles, one eyebrow arched coolly. ‘mm, yes,’ he says, dragging a hand through his hair and shaking it out into careful disarray, ‘and iwa-chan was so angry when he woke up, right, iwa-chan?’

‘idiot,’ comes iwaizumi’s voice from behind, without much heat behind the words. 

kageyama starts and turns to find iwaizumi-san standing in the doorway, wearing darkness around him like a cape, one gleaming fang visible against his lower lip, the picture-perfect representation of a vampire. 

‘if you hadn't been set on being a goddamn ‘hero’ - ’ iwaizumi draws air quotes around the word - ‘i wouldn’t be stuck here with you for the rest of my fucking immortal life.’

oikawa takes a long sip of his drink, and sets it down, leaving a ring of condensation on the dark wood grain of the table. ‘love you too, iwa-chan,’ he giggles, a flash of fang stained red.

‘ _what did you just say._ ’

kageyama watches the way oikawa’s smirk lifts slightly towards a smile when he’s around iwaizumi, the shadows falling across his face not as harsh, his expressions more genuine. he watches the way iwaizumi’s eyes go soft at the corners, the way he leans towards oikawa even when they’re not facing each other.

he watches the way they fall into a comfortable, well-worn orbit with each other, the way they hold each other up, broken and patched-up and inherently imperfect as they are, towers of glass in a city of steel - and thinks it’s something he wants.

somewhere, wedged in the spaces between the sofa seat cushions, he finds hinata’s hand, small and warm and alive in a way that sends sparks shooting down kageyama’s spine. intertwining their fingers, they hold onto each other, a promise of always in an eternal world, a silent whisper of _i’m here_.

 

(‘aw, look at how cute tobio-chan and shrimpy-kun are, look, iwa-chan~’

_‘dumbass.’_ )

 

when hinata climbs into bed, his feet are frigid (even by vampire standards), and kageyama hisses when they make contact with his bare legs.

‘kageyama-kun,’ hinata says, voice all teasing, ‘are you cold?’ and he draws his foot over kageyama’s body, hooking it under kageyama’s shirt.

kageyama shivers. ‘your feet are freezing.’

‘i thought vampires couldn’t feel the cold,’ hinata hums back, ghosting his fingertips (cold like he’d dipped them into a snowbank) over kageyama’s cheeks, darting them back just as quickly.

‘that’s just a myth, obviously.’ kageyama grabs hinata’s hands, pressing them between his own, breathing on them to warm them up. ‘dumbass,’ he mumbles. he’s on his side now, hinata’s shoulder pressed to the center of his chest, close enough to see the gold-ish strands in hinata’s hair. ‘if you were cold, you could have just asked.’

when hinata laughs, it’s a tiny puff of air against kageyama’s forehead, parting his fringe. ‘you do this every time anyways,’ hinata says. 

 

 

there are some perks, kageyama finds, to being a vampire, the first being amazing volleyball skills.

 

(hinata rejoices at that. ‘hey kageyama,’ he yells, ‘i can jump so much higher than you now,’ leaping up and down the stairs in a single jump to prove his point.

‘i’m still better than you at everything else though, dumbass.’

‘damnit!’)

 

but the best part, kageyama thinks, is still being able to wake up every day to hinata’s smile (fangs included), his cheerful ‘good morning’ (at seven p.m. instead of a.m.), like nothing’s changed, and going to bed with his arms around hinata (or vice versa), his face in hinata’s hair that somehow always manages to smell like oranges and air salonpas, hinata’s cold toes wedged between his legs, slowly warming up, just as it’s always been, always, always, always.

 

 

_and forever doesn’t seem so long when i have you._

**Author's Note:**

> but now i can't stop thinking about an hq vampire au
> 
> happy halloween! ~ ( ◉ o ◉ ) ~


End file.
